


Love My Way

by twinkylukey



Series: Call Me By Your Name AU [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Ashton is Oliver, Bottom Luke, I could never do this story justice, Inspired by Call Me By Your Name, Lashton - Freeform, Luke is Elio, M/M, Mild Smut, Mutual Pining, Student Ashton Irwin, Top Ashton Irwin, Underage Luke Hemmings, sorry this sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 01:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17839982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkylukey/pseuds/twinkylukey
Summary: a Lashton one-shot based on Call Me By Your Name. I used some dialogue and scene situations from the actual novel, but 99% is my own style. I have changed things to fit my language and make it more Lashton-y. Enjoy! I could never do this masterpiece any justice, but I have attempted to at least make a good fanfic.





	Love My Way

Luke didn't like the way Ashton simply said, "Later." It was that one word, and then he was gone. It gave Luke a stirring feeling in his gut, but if he closed his eyes and listened to the word fall from the lips of the older man, he could remember Italy. The cobblestone pathways that called his name and the freshwater he spent a lot of his time in seemed all too vivid to him. 

He could remember Ashton's billowy blue shirt, opened collar, sunglasses, and tanned skin everywhere. Luke hated touristy travelers, particularly American travelers. Perhaps, that was why he hadn't given Ashton the time of day. He was awfully rude to the older man when he first arrived. The young student seemed friendly enough. The student spoke to Luke frequently, even admired his intelligence. He properly addressed Luke's father as "Doctor" and "Sir." Luke figured it was merely due to the fact that Ashton was his father's student. That was the whole reason he was here in Italy. He would spend the summer studying various subjects, bothering Luke to the core with his "American behavior."

It was a conflict, _this._ Maybe because Ashton was so sculpted. He had a firm chest and sharp cheekbones. His lips were always so pouty, though he smiled frequently. Sometimes, that smile would be a smug little smirk, and Luke felt his stomach swirl at the thought. Ashton enjoyed running and sunbathing, and it showed. He was glorious. And maybe, just maybe, that was the real reason Luke was not too fond of the older man.

Luke tried not to let Ashton get in the way of his summer activities. He enjoyed the heat and showing off his musical capabilities to his adoring family. Luke could not let some twenty-four-year-old barbaricly handsome man stand in the way of his favorite season, but at the same time, the thought of someone knew inticed Luke. Excited him.

Summer brought fresh apricots and honeyed, golden skin. The trees lined the Hemmings' driveway. The sight alone made Luke sprout a smile. These trees were his childhood. He grew up beneath their branches, eating the ripened fruit, or simply basking in the cool shade they provided his feverish skin. 

Now that he was older, he could appreciate the lingering fertility that came with the summer. It was an overwhelming spell, bound to make any memory a vivid one. Luke was not sure what about Ashton left such a remarkable stamp on him. Ashton seemed to like Luke's company, but just as easily, they would separate. Their conversations would cease to exist. 

It could have been the evening Luke was playing guitar out beneath an apricot tree. The melody was sad and haunting, representing the feeling the young boy had only begun feeling when Ashton's conversations were no longer present. Luke had made a goal to stay away from the student. To punish him. 

Ashton seemed to notice Luke's foul mood. As he tried to make it better by asking him questions about his guitar. Luke stammered for words. He was too much on guard to answer correctly. 

"Don't try to explain it. Just play it again."

But Luke thought Ashton hated it. 

"Just play it, will you?" 

"The same one?"

"The same one."

Luke walked into the house, leaving the doors and windows open so that Ashton could hear him play a melody on the piano. Only, he changed it to a much more happy tune. The sandy-haired man leaned against the doorframe with a skeptical look. 

"You changed it. Play it the way you did out on the guitar."

So, Luke changed it again. Luke liked the way Ashton simulated exasperation. It made him feel alive to once again hold the older man's whimsy. 

Even if he later regretted it, fearing he had truly disappointed him. 

+

Maybe it was one evening, Luke was playing doubles with his various friends. They had all just sat down for some lemonade, made by his housekeeper, and then Ashton touched him. It startled Luke. Ashton had used his free hand to give Luke some sort of hug-massage. The whole thing seemed friendly, but inexperienced Luke was melting under the warm touch. Luke brushed the whole thing off with a grimace, a face of pain. 

"I'm sorry. Did I hit a nerve or something?" Ashton's fingers slid down Luke's spine as he brushed his hand away. 

"No, uh, no. Didn't hurt," the younger boy said. He didn't want to brush Ashton off, but something inside of him told him to not let it go any further. Even if he liked the warmth from Ashton's hand. Internally, it clicked with him that he was receiving the feelings one would experience if their crush had touched them. The nerves in his body stood up with interest. He wanted Ashton to touch him again. And again. 

"Here, let me make it better," Ashton's voice dripped with sincerity. He was testing Luke, proceeding to massage his shoulders. "Relax."

"But, I am relaxing," Luke whined like a petulant child. 

"You're as stiff as a board. Feel this," he said to Michael, Luke's best friend. "It's all knots."

He pressed his hand flat against Luke's back. They both continued to rub the tension from the young boy's back. 

"He should relax more."

"You should relax more," Michael repeated. It was then that Michael's cool hands replaced Ashton's. Luke could no longer feel the sweet sensation in his belly. It stung his skin like a memory.

\+ 

Luke was not sure if he wanted Ashton to act upon the undeniable tension between them. Their rooms were directly across from one another. Ashton had to stay in Luke's old room, and Luke stayed in the smaller, guest bedroom. They were only separated by a bathroom, which, sometimes left Luke with the enticement to just waltz into Ashton's room and confront him. 

Ashton spent an awful lot of time by the pool, sunbathing. He would often read, maybe do his work for his studies. The man often referred to the pastime as "heaven." The Hemmings would tease him about it, saying things like, "How long were you in heaven this morning?"

Heaven meant lying on his back along the edge of the pool with one leg dangling in the water, wearing his headphones and his straw hat flat on his face. There was someone who lacked for nothing. Luke envied him.

"Ashton, are you sleeping?" 

No sound would escape. 

After a stir and a small sigh, "I was."

"Sorry."

Ashton's foot in the water. Luke could have kissed every toe, then his ankles, and knees. He had grown fond of the look of Ashton in his green bathing suit. These were the times, in which, Luke felt safe to stare at the older man. He couldn't have possibly known what Luke was staring at. 

Yet:

"Ashton, are you sleeping?"

Long pause. 

"No. Thinking."

"About?"

His foot flickered in the water. The sound of the water rippling melted with the breeze. He proceeded to tell Luke about one of his studies. 

Then there were the days when Luke was not practicing guitar, and Ashton did not have his headphones on. The straw hat still covered his face. 

"Luke."

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"Reading."

"No, you're not."

"Thinking, then."

"About?"

Luke was dying to tell him. 

"Private," he replied. 

"So you won't tell me?"

"So I won't tell you."

"So he won't tell me."

The way he repeated words back to Luke made the younger boy's head spin. He loved to be difficult, frustrating the older man as a form of payback. Luke was, without a doubt, always left angry and wanting things that he couldn't understand. Staring at Ashton's perfect body, Luke's body wanted things that his mind could not yet fathom. 

+

When their friendship began to take off, Luke was ecstatic that he didn't have to fall into the routine of pretending to hate Ashton. Luke thinks it could have been in the meadow. After a long day of bicycling and running errands for Ashton, maybe it was then that he felt like his heart would forever be inked with the memory of that summer in Italy. They were in Luke's happy place. Lying beneath a tree after playing in the cooling pond laced with the crystal essence of the mountains high above them, the two were breathless from laughter. 

_"I just don't know about things that are important..."_

__

__

_"We can't do this...so far we've behaved. We've been good. So far neither of us has nothing to be ashamed of. Let's keep it that way. I want to be good."_

_"Don't be. I don't care. Who is to know?"_

The words were poison. Luke's inexperience stood as the weight between them. He wanted to know how to be a lover. He wanted to feel the love he read about in novels. Michael was a good kisser, satisfying his youthful needs enough, but Ashton was the one thing he truly wanted. His wisdom. His body. Luke wanted to be Ashton's. To be in Ashton's bed that was actually his bed. To do the things lovers do in bed. And that was why it hurt Luke so much that Ashton had to hold back. 

The hunger between them was pulled taught, like a rope. 

"Ashton?"

They were both lying on one arm, staring at each other. Lying in the spot where Monet used to paint. 

"You must be the luckiest boy in the whole world."

"You don't even know. So much of it is wrong."

"Us you mean?"

Luke was silent. 

"Let us see then—" Ashton drew close to Luke. If he got any closer, he could've heard the sound of Luke's blood rushing through his veins. He traced his finger along Luke's upper lip. Over and over he took in the heart-shape. The plushness. The innocence that dripped with them. Luke let him slide it inside of his mouth. The warmth entrapped Ashton's skin, and suddenly, it was too much. He kissed Luke. 

Luke wished he could have been more familiar with kissing. All he could do was try and reciprocate Ashton's movements as best as he could. He kissed with vigor, but there was no lust or love or anything really. He just wanted this moment. In Monet's berm, smelling the strong man on top of him.

"Better now?" Ashton pulled away; it left Luke animalistic. He wouldn't let that happen. Crawling in Ashton's lap, he kissed him violently. Connecting their lips once more with a crash, his body was taking over. Passion and ardor allowed him to hide so much more. It was almost savage, especially the taste of tongue. This searing kiss was nothing like the one before. The younger boy was not sure if he wanted passion or pleasure. He didn't even know if he wanted closure! 

It was only when he realized that the kiss may not have a sequel that he realized he needed _more._ He wanted Ashton to kiss him forever. The motions of the kiss begun to signify an ending. Luke felt as though he were being ripped off of life support. 

"We should go."

_"We can't do this. We have behaved."_


End file.
